The Philosophy of Jay
by Pinkie Tuscadaro
Summary: Jay's first person view of life, his role in certain events at Degrassi, and his feelings on Manny.


Kind of misunderstood, I thought. I mean, so I guess I liked trouble. So what? So did they, and no one was persecuting them for it. Just me. Always singled out. Take the Rick thing, for example. Alex was involved, pretty deeply involved yet somehow she sails on through without a scratch. Me and Spinner, on the other hand, we get the ax.

And take this fucking Manning kid, Jesus. I knew he was up to all kinds of trouble, getting girls pregnant, running away, trashing hotel rooms, trashing weddings. Fighting. Fighting at the friggin' mall. So what happens to him? Everyone loves him and feels sorry for him, but not me boy. No one has an ounce of sympathy for me.

Even freaking J.T. of all people. He got someone pregnant, too. The class president. And he sold drugs, but first he stole drugs. Oxy's, and that's some serious shit. Granted I had a hand in that one, but he could have said no. He could have used half a brain cell on that one. Instead when the shit hit the fan he tried to bail, tried to check out early but just ended up a blubbering mess at the hospital on suicide watch.

So I'm kind of a lovable villain, I guess. I really think so. And sometimes I'm the only one there when the privileged ones fall from grace. Like Sean Cameron when he stole Simpson's laptop. He was persona non grata with the Simpson/Nelsons but I was there for him. And Spinner. When all of Spinner's friends turned on him like rabid little dogs who stuck by him? Who brought him alcohol in the woods and who suggested he go to that stupid party at Craig's house and who stopped him from burning down the school? That's right, friends and neighbors, it was me. So I can't be all that bad. Can I?

Even Alex's lesbian thing, I mean, c'mon. So maybe I pointed it out to Hazel but what good are secrets when it comes to that sort of thing? Everyone needs a little push out of the closet, am I right? I was _helping_ in my own way. I'm a catalyst for change. A catalyst for honesty. One philosopher said that the unexamined life was not worth living. So if you couldn't contemplate why you beat up your step dad or why you blamed one of your best friends for a stunt you were so involved with it made Nixon look innocent at Watergate, and said stunt got said best friend shot and paralyzed, if you couldn't contemplate why you were kissing a girl when you happened to be a girl yourself, well then what good was that life?

It's not too surprising how they've all treated me. Who wants to take such an honest, raw look at their own life, their own motivations? Yeah, Spinner freaked on me at that Christian picnic thing because I saw Darcy's inner slut girl yearning to breathe free. I knew she wanted Spin so I tried, in my own subtle way, to help. Then Spinner goes all mental on me. And Craig said he'd rather eat his own liver than eat the food I cooked at the Kevin Smith movie thing, so that's gratitude for you. And Sean nearly killed me at the garage because of Emma.

Let's just state for the record that Cameron was completely off base with that one. First of all he wasn't even there. He was in Wasaga Beach crying to mommy and daddy that he killed Rick. Now that is bullshit of the highest order. Rick killed Rick. Rick was the dumb ass who brought the gun to school, Rick was the dumb ass who shot Brooks, Rick was the dumb ass who insisted on going to Degrassi in the first place. Hey, kid, Ontario is a pretty big place. I think you could have found another school, maybe one where everyone doesn't hate you. So whatever, Sean felt guilty. Point is, he left, and he was dating Ellie at the time. I guess the long distance thing didn't work out when she packed up all his shit and mailed it back to him.

Let's recap a bit, shall we? Sean was dating _Ellie_, Sean was living in _Wasaga Beach_, Sean wasn't _here_. So yeah, I fooled around with Emma, little Miss Greenpeace. But she wanted it. I don't force chicks into things. I believe in free will. Sometimes I just point the way. And Emma came to me. She snuck out of her little basement window and she trotted over to the ravine and that's that. And then Sean has the nerve to go all psycho on me a year and a half later? Let the past be the past, man.

But I don't hold grudges. That's their thing, man. I know they're all messed up, don't know even what they're doing half the time. All these issues, all the drama, and they're mired in it. Me, I'm above it. Unsullied, untarnished. I rise above, man.

Now there is sweet little Manuela Santos. I don't want to quite admit it but maybe, just maybe, she's more than I bargained for. I can see why Manning got into all kinds of trouble over her, why he risked the wrath of Ashley Kerwin to pursue the lovely Miss Manny. Well, understanding them doesn't change anything. It doesn't. 

I even like her dad, Mr. Santos. He's a hard ass. I respect that. And you never quite know how he's going to react to things. He's unpredictable, like life. Sometimes I'm tempted to tell him that Manning got his prized daughter pregnant when she was all of 14, but I never would. I never would because of Manny, but man to see him go after Craig would be priceless. He would, too. He'd hunt him down on whatever stage he was performing on and eviscerate him right there.

I thoroughly enjoy my evenings with the Santos's. I like their sort of foreign-ish food, I like the dynamics, the cautious looks thrown to Mr. Santos. It's…interesting. I like how he responds to the off the wall things I say. I can't help it. My last girlfriend, Alex, things were a lot different at her house. Her mom and the latest boyfriend drank like fish. I must admit I drank my share when I was there, and I caught Alex having a beer or two. She should watch out. She's got that alcoholic blood. The Nunez's can't hold their liquor. You've got to recognize your limitations. 

So road trip is on the horizon. Could be romantic little interlude with me and Manny, but looks like everyone and their brother is planning on tagging along, even gimpy in the wheelchair. Now that's going to be a load of fun, folding up that chair and wedging it into the trunk every hundred miles or so. And I know we're probably going to run into that band that Craig is headlining with or singing in or whatever it is he's doing. But Manny's over him. He burned his bridges, man. He chose coke over my Manuela and you never do that, man. You do not choose the substance over the chick. A line of cocaine can't stand on its tiptoes and give you a kiss goodnight under the porch light. For someone who was supposed to be sort of smart, Craig was pretty dumb. So I'm not at all nervous she'll fall into some freshman year time warp and think she loves him again. His only hope is Ashley, at this point.

So, yeah. I'm pretty comfortable with my role as devil's advocate, as someone who points out some of the more uncomfortable truths. Because life isn't about comfort or feeling good about yourself or even succeeding. If those things happen it's only incidental. Life is about learning about yourself, your light side and your dark side. And if I help bring the dark side to light for these kids, then so be it. I don't expect a thank you. All I ask is that they pour a beer on my grave when I'm dead, like the true gangstas. 


End file.
